


"everything is more beautiful because we are doomed"

by anopendoor



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, Alternate Universe - Regency, Alternate Universe - Victorian, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Angst, Angst and Tragedy, Arranged Marriage, Bazine is his betrothed, Ben is a Lord, Drama, Eventual Smut, F/M, Forbidden Love, I can't guarantee a happy ending, Misplaced Affections, P.S. I love you - Freeform, Regency Level Drama, Rey is a handmaid with brains, Romance, Secret Relationship, Slow Burn, Tragic Romance, forbidden feelings, victorian au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-13
Updated: 2020-12-20
Packaged: 2021-03-10 04:02:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,717
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27997962
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anopendoor/pseuds/anopendoor
Summary: After months of correspondence, Lord Benjamin Solo can’t wait to meet his betrothed. But Lady Bazine Netal does not seem as thoughtful, or well-read, as her letters made her out to be. When Bazine is invited to Alderaan to announce their engagement, Ben is perplexed upon meeting one of her handmaidens, who seems so akin in spirit to her mistress.Even more curious, is the odd sensation he can’t shake—he swears that heknowsher somehow…but such a thought is simply impossible.
Relationships: Rey/Ben Solo, Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Comments: 36
Kudos: 63
Collections: Reylo Readers & Writers - The Marvellous Moodboard Event





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [reylocaltrash](https://archiveofourown.org/users/reylocaltrash/gifts).



> So--a lot of thank yous and recognitions to make for this one...
> 
> This fic is inspired by the lovely moodie by @reylocaltrash and part of the Marvellous Moodboard Event by Reylo Readers & Writers! Such an amazing event to be a part of--thank you for all your hard work!! 💕
> 
> My story is based off this amazing prompt by @dyadskyberheart ✨: 
> 
> _After months of correspondence, lord Ben Solo can't wait to meet his betrothed. But lady Bazine Netal seems another person, stupid and petty. Hearing his maids talking to her handmaiden Rey, he recognizes familiar, deep views. Who is the real author of the letters?_
> 
> And you would have no idea what I was trying to say if it wasn't for my super amazing beta Stef 🙌. She made my 'old timey' speak actually comprehensible and for that I am forever grateful!!
> 
> Disclaimer for any Victorian authenticity errors--which I apologize for in advance. I tried to research and ask for help where I could, but I am far from an expert.
> 
> This prompt is already set up to be angst inducing, and I found myself drawn to the tragedy of the star-crossed lovers trope. SO, this is going to be an angsty-heart-wrenching ride and I can't guarantee happiness, (in fact, as of now, it is very much projected to be open ended or not HEA) so I want to give this notice in advance if you are hoping for a HEA. Please tread with caution. 
> 
> Buuuut if you love the pain of a heartbreaking regency au with Ben and Rey as our doomed lovers may I present to you...

_Dear Miss Netal,_

_I write to you, first, as a man ashamed of his actions. It was not my intention to be so ill-mannered or to leave you with a poor impression of my person. Second, I wish to bestow my deepest apologies for my behavior. There was quite the uproar at my return from overseas. In some ways, it has been overwhelming, and I do not do well with surprises._

_The news of our engagement was not shared with me right up until the time we were to meet. I regret how my initial reaction may have come across. I only wish we had been formally introduced before such decisions were to be made for me, and for us. I can only hope you anticipated the same._

_I do not expect your immediate forgiveness for the behavior I bestowed upon you that night, however, if it would best suit you, please see this letter as an act of goodwill._

_Benjamin Solo_

_-_

_My most gracious Lord,_

_Such a letter was unexpected, but know that I am very pleased. Your apology is more than well-received, and you have nothing but my most ardent forgiveness._

_I will admit, my excitement upon meeting you may have given you an unrealistic display of my countenance. Rest assured, I am possessed to present my true nature, should you feel so inclined to send another letter._

_Yours sincerely,_

_Miss Bazine Netal_

_P.S. I should add, given your behavior towards my handmaidens, which was very disagreeable, I should think to expect your sincere apologies to them, as well._

_-_

_Dear Miss Netal,_

_I offer the sincerest mortification for any harm that may have come to your fair ladies by my hand—or rather, my words. Such behavior is not to be excused, and I should see to it that you are compensated for such a slight. I hope you may accept this humble bouquet as a symbol of my remorse._

_I promise it is with my keenest interest, to improve my harsh exterior. In fact, I have found reading to be quite therapeutic a respite._

_Please do not think me to be entirely monstrous, though I behaved as such. If there is any way I can bestow upon you further proof of my most genuine apologies, I hope you will not hesitate to share your thoughts._

_With the deepest regret,_

_Benjamin Solo_

_-_

_My dear Lord Solo,_

_You flatter me with such an invitation. I did find your tender display of hyacinths to be quite pleasing with the receipt of your letter. Please know you are quite forgiven. Of course, any gifts you wish to bestow will be more than gladly received._

_You had mentioned books as a form of medicine for your ailments. I wondered what sort of prose it is you have come to find placates the monster you profess yourself to be?_

_Since it appears you find yourself in such discontent so easily, these novels must be in such quantity. I imagine the list to be quite extensive._

_Ardently yours,_

_Bazine Netal_

_-_

_Dear Miss Netal,_

_If it is not too bold to make such assumptions, one would think your response to my dilemmas to border on mockery. Know that I am not so easily offended. However, such tongue and cheek could be deemed as far from appropriate if we were to be so stringent for proprietys' sake._

_As far as reading materials, I have found some gruesome tales to be just the right sort of salve to keep the monsters at bay. I reckon they may be far too distressing for a woman of your tender years. I do not wish to upset your delicate nature._

_With care,_

_Benjamin Solo_

_-_

_My Lord,_

_Given that we are to be wed, should we concern ourselves with something so snobbish? I must confess, I did not think you to have such sensitivities! Given how one appears amongst the masses. I find your concern for my propriety rather unnecessary. You should not worry about such things._

_That is to say, whatever gruesome texts you find so afflicting, I think you will be surprised to know that I have already read the chilling tale of Frankenstein. Surely, any monsters you can conjure will be no worse than that._

_I wonder, Lord Solo, if you agree with so many others of your same ilk that a lady be shielded from the horrors of the world—is that how you would expect a marriage between us to be? Am I merely a delicate flower solely possessed under your protection?_

_I assure you no story will burden me as such. As is the case, please suggest away!_

_Yours etc.,_

_Bazine Netal_

_-_

_Miss Netal,_

_I, by no means, meant to offend you, miss. There is much you may not know about me, but through our correspondence, I hope to change your perception. I know I may not deserve such an indulgence, but I am determined to display my affections._

_However, because you have shown such interest, I am obliged to provide you with the truth. Yes, I have been known to be curt in my interactions, but it is only because I hold sense and realism in such high regard—those who walk through life from one party to the next I find an exhaustion to my wits—I’m sure you’ve come to this realization as well._

_As far as a list of titles. I cannot help but feel apprehension to any reactions you may feel once you have been exposed to such atrocities. If I were to peruse my own shelf, I would think The Tell-Tale Heart or Macbeth would be a place to start. I fear, already, that they may be far too serious, and also rather controversial. Access to these books are difficult to come by. If this is not an overstep, I have sent along my own copies for your leisure._

_May they fare thee well,_

_Benjamin Solo_

_-_

_My Lord,_

_‘I fear’? Oh my, I should think myself very beastly indeed to have driven Lord Solo to fear! I have started reading one of your suggestions. It may shock you to know that I have already browsed through a slew of Shakespeare. Yet, the library here is not by any means well-shelved, so your copy of The Tell-Tale Heart has been very pleasing indeed. I found it was seemingly impossible to put down._

_It is curious, that you should find comfort in a tale where the narrator suffers from some sort of cognitive distress—thus would lead him to murder. I am quite in awe of this author you have found, and from America no less! Such tales have yet to be shared, at least here. I wonder if there is a future for this author yet._

_Or—are our English sensibilities not able to swallow such grisly prose?_

_Yours etc.,_

_Bazine Netal_

_-_

_Dear Miss Netal,_

_It was purchased as a joke, for a friend of mine—as they share the same name. I did not expect it to be as thrilling as it turned out to be. It is, certainly, a new sort of horror. It seems to explore a whole other realm of the supernatural that is not vampires or demons yet, the monster is still a human man._

_I have sent another novel, Wuthering Heights, for you to peruse. Sometimes the deepest terrors are not in gore, but in the demons within ourselves._

_I will not laden you with too much of these thoughts, but I often find peace in reading about characters that hold a similar—error of humanity, if you will—a sort of darkness that I think most may identify with, but are much better at hiding than others. Or, possibly, I’m a fool, and these are all just musings of an idiot._

_I apologize if I have bored you,_

_Benjamin Solo_

_-_

_My Lord,_

_Teasing aside, I very much admire your analysis of the formidable mind. I dare say, I pity those who maintain the same impressions I had of you upon first glance. I see now that you were correct in your desire to change my mind. I will admit, my judgments are very much changed._

_Upon starting your most recent suggestion, I must agree that the darkness of reality is much more terrifying than anything in fantasy. Perhaps, a depression instead of horror, but aren’t they both their own representations of violence, of the very things we may fear the most?_

_I often wonder if happiness is even possible. Or rather, an unreachable dream. I suspect, in society, we are all lined up into perfect little rows. To stray out of line would lead to disastrous consequences._

_I will not bombard you with my thoughts of melancholy. Only that, I think of Helen of Troy, of war sought all for the sake of love and passion. For she was used as a pawn—a trinket of others' wants and desires. I suppose there is nothing more tragic than being cursed with love._

_You are being forced to marry me, and I you. What if, in reality, there is no such thing as true happiness—true love for that matter? In the end, we are always subject to the powers above us, and as a result, we are always alone._

_My deepest regrets, in turn, if I have bored you—or possibly swayed your impressions of me,_

_Bazine Netal_

_-_

_My dear Miss Netal,_

_On the contrary, you have not bored me at all. I hope to not stress this too forcefully, but in the months since we began our correspondence, I feel as though I have grown to know you very well._

_Perhaps it is too soon to speak of emotions such as love. But you must know that I have developed a fondness for your thoughts and opinions. Having an arranged marriage, we were not permitted the same courtship others are allowed._

_If I may be so bold as to declare that I strongly desire your affection— and feel a determination to prove your sentiments about love wrong._

_Helen of Troy is a symbol of selfishness and desire—in that you are correct. However, our courtship is in no way similar._

_We have a statue of Helen here at Alderaan. I will show her to you, and perhaps we can discuss your melancholy further. I admit I am rather incensed to change your opinion. In fact, I think it would be far more sensible for you to come to Alderaan at once. It has been more than expected, I should think._

_You must know how I think of you,_

_Benjamin Solo_

_-_

_My Lord,_

_I do not think there is anything that would delight me more than to see Helen’s likeness in person. Beautiful, just as I imagine all of Alderaan to be. A visit has been on my mind for some time…_

_But this is quite surprising—to know that you think so highly of me after such short correspondence._

_Are you sure it is true in feeling? I am unfamiliar, but these sorts of engagements sometimes take years, and ours has only been a few months!_

_Please do not take any offense. I am merely concerned for propriety’s sake._

_Yours etc.,_

_Bazine Netal_

_-_

_My darling—if it is not too forward to address you as such,_

_Was it not your suggestion, as we are arranged to be wed, to think little of propriety?_

_It would please me, greatly, for you to visit, and I beseech your acceptance. In fact, if you are also so inclined, let us announce our engagement! I know this has been discussed between the families, but I do believe it is time to make the public announcement._

_I know I am not usually so keen to display my honest thoughts, but I cannot leave you uncertain of my affections._

_Your words, your mind—your soul have bewitched me far past any physical beauty you possess._

_I am certain there is no one else quite like you, not in the entire world. I will inform my mother, and we will make all the arrangements. By the coming weeks, you will be here in Alderaan, and you will see that you belong. You could read every horrific and grisly tale you so desire—whenever you want! I would show you art, bring you new books—oh, the discussions we will have._

_If I have been stoic in my feelings, I must confess to you now—how deeply and irrevocably I want you to be my wife._

_Yours most ardently,_

_Benjamin Solo_

_-_

_~~My Lord,~~ _

_~~You speak so plainly I am in awe of your confession. If only you knew the truth of my deceit, if only you knew how I wished—~~ _

_~~-~~ _

_My dearest, most handsome Lord,_

_I cannot wait another second to come to Alderaan—and for our engagement. I promise to make you the happiest—and in our life of splendor, I swear to fill our estate with rooms of children. Our first son will be named after his father—and we will be overcome with feeling—_

_I await with fevered nerves to see you again after such a time apart. You should know how differently I think of you now compared to before. If I were to look back on my original impressions, how ridiculous they would be._

_Yet I wonder if I will feel like a stranger to you._

_And I fear if you will think me one as well, once we are united._

_Ever yours,_

_Bazine Netal_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos and comments are greatly appreciated. I hope you are intrigued thus far!
> 
> I am on [twitter](https://twitter.com/anopendoor3).


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As I had two chapters completed, I posted them both in honor of my Marvellous Moodie submission! Woo! I hope you are intrigued so far...

It was a quiet afternoon. The cooling temperatures of April had abated to bring warmth and sunshine in May. The spring flowers bloomed. Countess Leia Organa-Solo was in the conservatory enjoying her afternoon tea among the Cattleya Orchids that she had worked so hard to maintain when her son bounded into the room, disrupting the peace.

“Has there been an accident?” Her tone held a level of concern as she took in the disheveled appearance of the young lord.

Ben Solo made a show of righting his waistcoat before he bowed gently to the Countess. “Mother,” He greeted softly before the excitement overcame him once again. “I want to make arrangements for Miss Bazine Netal to come to Alderaan in two weeks' time. We are ready to announce our engagement.”

The Countess’s eyebrows raised. “You are?”

Ben’s expression turned perplexed. “You sound surprised.”

“I—am, a little. Given how you reacted when we first suggested Miss Netal as a match at Christmas. The last I remember, I had to force you to write an apology to the poor girl.” She looked at him with a shrewdness that made him want to recoil a bit. “What has changed?”

He shrugged his shoulders simply. “Everything.” From the look on her face, he can tell his simple statement did not convince the Countess. “We’ve been writing—to one another. And mother—” He watched as his mother’s eyes widened as she took in the expression on his face. “She is _everything_ and more than what I thought. I cannot wait to marry her.”

The Countess motioned for him to sit beside her. “This is great news, indeed. I know it was unfair to lay such a burden on you with a decision that concerned your future happiness, but I am glad to know that it has turned fortuitous.”

Ben nodded curtly. Those thoughts of betrayal and anger that had hung like a cloud over his disposition for the past few months were now nowhere in sight.

While deemed important in high society, their family was not without a bit of scandal. Lady Leia Organa was the daughter of the Duke and Duchess of Coruscant, a highborn lady with a dowry the size of Wales, and the estate of Alderaan bequeathed to her once she was to be wed. Suitors had lined up to have a chance at her hand, but it was the War General Sir Han Solo that won her affection.

With no wealth, fortune, or real title for that matter, Han Solo was a vagabond in the eyes of British society. Their union caused quite the scandal, as Lady Organa was betrothed by the time they met. There was a rumor that the couple tried to elope in Scotland. It was the talk of the country for months when Han Solo was subsequently and rather mysteriously dubbed an Earl, by the Queen herself, and they were wed shortly thereafter. 

And with such wealth, and the support of her brother, the current Duke of Coruscant, they were able to live through the transgression without much backlash.

However, Alderaan as an estate was dwindling in importance and money. It was with the Duke’s suggestion that more property be acquired to maintain the strength of the Skywalker fortune—and that acquisition of land came down to the next, and only, heir to the Earl of Alderaan. It was time for Lord Benjamin Solo to marry.

Miss Bazine Netal was the heir, an only child to the Baron of Chaaktil, a vast acreage of land that had advantageous prospects should the Solo-Skywalker family come to possess it. Now widowed, the Baroness of Chaaktil was eager to protect her family from ruin and loss of fortune. Given Bazine had just turned nineteen and was at the prime age for marriage, this union seemed faultless by practical design.

Unions between those of nobility or gentry were not often made out of love and affection—love was a rarity that was more unusual than common.

Still, Ben Solo had hoped that he would be as fortunate as his parents when it came time for him to find a wife.

It was why he handled the news of his engagement so poorly. He’d ruined his family’s Christmas in Coruscant making a complete fool of himself and his family by storming out of the room without a word.

“I want to announce the engagement by holding a formal dinner for the family and then a ball to celebrate the announcement. Will you help me with the arrangements?”

Leia’s eyes widened in surprise. “Of course, Ben, my dear. While I am delighted by this news, are you sure you wish to proceed with such haste? There is no rush…”

“On the contrary, mother, I think you must know that I have waited long enough, and I wish not to wait another moment. I hope to make Miss Bazine Netal my wife by the end of June, and I won’t rest until all the arrangements are made.”

“I haven’t seen you so passionate about any task such as this in so long. The last time was when you were quite pressed to leave us—when you ventured off overseas…”

“You should be happy, as now my plans are to be in Chaaktil as soon as possible, and perhaps give you those grandchildren you are so keen on.”

The countess’s eyes light up at that mention. “Very well, I’ll have Threepio make the preparations and will send a correspondence to Lady Netal right away.”

Ben could not keep the smile from his face at the prospect. “Marvelous. I want everything to be perfect.”

-

Ben passed through the front hall and heard a familiar voice call out to him.

“Solo! I thought I would run into you—”

Ben stopped and turned to the voice before shaking his head with mild-humor. “A fine assumption given this is my house.”

The shorter man walked up to him before he stopped short and paused. They stare at one another for a good long moment before the shorter man cracked a smile. “You are a hard fellow to get a hold of.”

“And yet, you’ve found me.”

“Ever the serious brute, aren’t you?”

“Why have you come to call?” Ben asked, already tired of his friends’ jovial whims. “I thought you were still in the Americas.”

Poe Dameron turned his head to the side in a flourish that was absolutely roguish and would certainly have women’s hearts fluttering if they were within sight. This same action made Ben Solo roll his eyes.

“Well, as you can see, I have returned.” The man had a smirk on his face that—to most people—would surely find disarming. “I saw no better an opportunity than to come visit my dearest friend after such a long time apart.”

“Ah, so you need money.”

Poe squawked at the accusation. “I’ll actually have you know; I’ve come upon a great fortune, as it were. There are investments to be made in a new bombastic idea. They call them airships, think of it! Ships that fly through the sky--that is where our future is heading."

“Well, do not come to me for any whimsical investments anytime soon. I will be otherwise engaged, for the next few months as I prepare for my wedding.”

That made the other man’s eyes widen in shock. “Am I mistaken, or did I just hear the word ‘wedding’ come out of your mouth? By God, I never thought I’d see the day.”

“You jest as well as you feign interest—that is very poorly.”

“Oh, but I am _very_ interested,” Poe replied with a curious look in his eye. “Who, may I ask, is the lucky lady? Or—maybe I should amend to say ‘not so lucky’?”

Ben huffed an aggravated breath through his nose. “If you recall, last winter there was a discussion of a union between myself and Miss Bazine Netal—”

Poe’s hand came up to rest on his chin thoughtfully. “I recall meeting Miss Netal, once, at the Takodana estate. I don’t recall her character meeting even mediocre expectations…”

Ben scoffed at his friend’s misjudgment. “No, in fact, she exceeds far beyond any expectations. Certainly, any which _you_ may have at any rate. I’ve come to know her over these last few months. We have corresponded through letters, and I have learned much of her. She—she is of her own mind. Strong-willed, yet sensible in her opinions. She is well-read, she has wit…”

“My God, Ben, you’re _smitten_ ,” Poe said with astonishment. “Maybe I was too quick to judge Miss Netal. It was a rather—boisterous evening, I suppose I might have imbibed too much sherry.”

“As you often do.” Ben pointed out.

“Nevertheless, I am curious about these letters she has written—why to have converted England’s most notorious brute into—still a brute, but yet so overcome with lovesickness.” Poe stared at his friend in amusement. “That must have been some prose…”

Ben shook his head. “My correspondence with Miss Netal is not some sort of entertainment to be mocked.”

The shorter man raised his hands in acquiescence. “I meant no insult. I suppose my next question then should be: when is the wedding?”

Ben nodded curtly. “My hope is to bring her to Alderaan in the coming weeks. We will announce our engagement then, and the plan is to be wed by the end of next month.”

Poe looked thoughtful at his confession. “You are quite eager. I am shocked. I never thought I’d see the day when Benjamin Solo would fall to infatuation.”

The taller man shook his head in disagreement. “It is not a mere infatuation. I have been fortunate to have found a wife that will both help my family status, as well as be a companion I will always cherish. It is a blessing not all are welcome to.”

There was something in his friends’ eye that made him pause, but before he could question the doubts on the other man’s visage, Poe nodded, relenting. “You know her far better than I. I only suggest heeding caution. It is not the first time a woman has seemed like one thing on paper, and yet another when she waltzes through the door of the grand ballroom.” When he smiled, it twinkled at the corners of his eyes. “I am happy for you, my friend. May she be everything you expect and more.”

Ben nodded in agreement. “She will be.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos and comments are greatly appreciated. I am ( 🙈scared and ) curious to know what you think!
> 
> I am on [twitter](https://twitter.com/anopendoor3).


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who's kudos, commented, and liked this story so far!! It's been the angst I've always wanted to write, but I hope you all still want to stick with me on this - and if not, I completely understand.
> 
> Daily disclaimer that I only know what I know of Victorian society from television, the internet, and some gothic novelists. 
> 
> And all the bountiful thanks to Stef for being my beta through all this--I am forever grateful 💕

“Oh, how marvelous! You can see the estate from here! Isn’t it just the grandest?”

Rey’s eyes darted out the window as she caught a glimpse of the stone manor high on the hill. The sun sparkled against the glass of the conservatory. It truly was a beautiful sight to behold. She found herself lost in the luster.

“Ladies, may I present my new home,” Miss Bazine Netal’s high-pitched voice rang ostentatiously within the small confines of the carriage as they approached Alderaan Manor.

Rey felt Rose stifle a giggle beside her and turn her face to look at Jannah.

“My dear, you will do well to remember what I told you. Better to be demure and thoughtful. Any display of excitement should be regarded with poise. You are not down the altar yet.” Baroness Isabella Netal’s graveling voice silenced the giggles in the carriage. Her beady eyes landed on Rey, causing her to cast hers down to the floor. She did not like when the Baroness’s attention set on her.

The Baroness’s shrewdness seemed to temper the excitement of the younger Netal, and silence filled the carriage once more.

It left Rey alone, once again, with her own troubled thoughts. The estate grew larger in size as they approached. She felt a trepidation flood her insides.

She knew, without a doubt, that she was more nervous than anyone to meet the young Lord. Now that she knew of the man that hid underneath the brooding exterior…

There was actually a good deal to be concerned about. The likelihood of this meeting to occur without any hint of deception seemed very unrealistic. Rey was certain Lord Solo would become instantly suspicious when he discovered Miss Netal was not all that she seemed. Even worse if he were to discover her reading skills to be mediocre at best…

She felt the chilling stare spear into her veins once more, but she willed herself not to look. While the Baroness had not been privy to read all of Lord Solo’s letters, she seemed very observing since the turn of events when Bazine shrieked in the parlor that Lord Solo wished to announce their engagement after such a short correspondence.

The Baroness’s watchful eyes would narrow whenever she glanced at Rey, causing Rey to recoil and wish herself invisible. It had been the Baroness’s idea, after all, to exploit Rey's skill for writing and penmanship as a transcriber for all of Miss Bazine’s letters.

Perhaps their ploy of deception had worked too well.

If only Rey hadn’t been so foolish as to do more than just transcribe.

Her fingers twined together with nerves as the carriage turned and began its ascent up the long gravel path. Some of the staff came into view, standing behind a tall and hulking dark figure.

Rey felt her heart thud at the realization of who was standing there. Lord help her…

“Quite a small welcoming reception,” The Baroness muttered as the carriage pulled up to the front of the house.

Rey watched with widening eyes as Lord Solo bounded forward, instead of a footman, to help them from the carriage.

She caught the flash of a smile adorn his usually tempered features—from what she remembered of him. She found that smile to be extremely disarming and far more pleasing than anything she had dreamed up whenever she lost herself to her own imaginations as she penned him those intimate notes.

For she had dreamed of him—and his appearance—often.

Bazine released one final squeal before she pursed her lips, and the carriage door opened. An exceedingly large hand came into view, and Rey found her eyes trained to those long, calloused fingers.

Bereft, she thought of those same fingers holding a pen as he wrote impassioned words of adoration to her…

Or rather, to Miss Bazine Netal.

Rey felt a stab of pain sharp in her chest as she watched Bazine’s white-gloved hand rest in his. She was not familiar with the feeling, but based on her symptoms and from her knowledge born from reading many a Greek tragedy, she suspected this to be envy.

“Miss Netal.” His voice was softer than she expected, yet deep and enthralling all the same. “I am pleased to see you have arrived very well.” She watched as Bazine grabbed at her full skirts and stepped out of the carriage.

“My Lord,” she greeted sweetly and with only a moderate squeak. Her mothers' words were clearly present in her mind as she bowed her head. Her perfectly coiffed brunette curls bounced as she smiled demurely up at him.

His hand reached out once again, but this time to the Baroness, and Rey felt an improper surge of yearning to also be offered that hand. Her desire to take that hand ran sinfully deep, and she had to grab at her skirts in an attempt to keep her unbridled passions at bay.

A footman did approach the carriage then, to help the lady’s maids. He smiled kindly at Rey as he helped her down the step.

She heard Rose giggle again as he helped her next. “Thank you, sir.” Rey looked back to see Rose and Jannah snickering to each other as the footman bowed, gesturing towards the house.

As they walked behind their Mistresses, Rey allowed herself to glance up at the couple as they walked hand in arm. The young Lord Solo’s broad shoulders turned slightly inwards towards Miss Netal, and even that gesture seemed far too intimate for Rey to bear.

They stopped near the entrance, and that was when Rey noticed another couple there to greet them. One did not have to be a scholar to guess that they were the Earl and Countess of Alderaan. She watched as the Netal ladies bowed in greeting before they proceeded inside.

“The Earl is just as handsome as his son, don’t you think?” Jannah whispered beside Rey as they entered the house. She snickered when Rey’s elbow attempted to reach out and nudge her.

The group stopped in the front hall where a grand staircase led to the second floor. “I will leave you be, so that you may settle in. Threepio will show you and your ladies to your quarters. I will eagerly await your company tonight at dinner, and for the news we will soon share.” And then he did something else that would forever haunt Rey’s waking thoughts. She saw it play again, and again in her mind as he lifted Bazine’s hand to his lips. Rey's heart cracked and then shattered as she watched them, unable to tear her eyes away.

He turns to the Baroness and bows. “My lady.”

When he rose to his full height his eyes landed on the ladies as they stood behind the Baroness. It’s also when Rey realized she was staring.

The moment his eyes fell on hers, Rey felt every nerve ending freeze. The only evidence of life would be the flush that had begun to spread across her chest and cheeks. She tore her eyes away the moment her will allowed it, and her chin tilted down pointedly to the floor.

God, he must think her a fool—if he even had a thought of her at all.

The moment might have lasted but a second, and soon they were led up the stairs by the short, fine-haired butler. He walked with a stilted gait that Rey found peculiar.

She willed herself to focus on that fact instead of the captivating presence behind her. It would only inflict torture on herself. Better she create as much distance from Lord Benjamin Solo as she can.

-

Ben found himself pacing his room with unbridled excitement. He could not wait for this night to be over, to dine, and then announce his engagement. Once all formalities were out of the way, he would be free to finally spend time with his betrothed, to show her the house, the art, and discuss further on the topics they had shared through their letters.

He would no longer have to wait in impatience for her next correspondence, and soon she would be his to spend his every day and night with if she so desired. Because he did—he so desperately desired her company.

Was Ben Solo not the luckiest man in all of England?

There was still an hour before they were to receive guests in the drawing-room. It was to be an intimate affair. However, his uncle was expected to attend, and then the exciting news would be announced. With his uncle’s blessing, he would announce the engagement at the ball, and then all of British Society would know his intentions.

He hardly cared for what was deemed appropriate. He was ready to shout the news of his engagement from the balconette right in his room!

He felt his nerves unwilling to abate. Perhaps he should bestow a gift to his fiancée. Then the most brilliant idea came to mind.

The library was far from their reception rooms and the ballroom. Ben preferred its isolation and used its location as a hiding spot for usual social gatherings.

His thoughts were still swirling like a maelstrom in his head as he thought back on their meeting earlier today.

He recalled Miss Bazine and her unquestionable beauty. She had smiled so prettily for him when she took his hand. He had wondered if such fantasies were possible, but was reasoned away from such follies when there was no spark as they touched hands. He suspected these sorts of feelings to be the imaginings born from fiction and was only slightly disappointed when his suspicions were dubbed true.

She had barely spoken as they walked up the path to greet his parents. It must have been for the sake of social etiquette, hence why he wished to find her alone and discover her true countenance. He longed to speak with the girl in the letters.

As he rounded the corner, he stopped short in surprise at another presence in the hall. 

“My Lord!” The voice gasped out hastily, and he watched as one of Bazine’s young maids bowed deeply before him. “My deepest apologies, I did not think anyone would be here—that is to say, I know I should not be aimlessly wandering—you see, my Lady is not fond of how I braid her hair, she dismissed me, hence why I am—I mean no disrespect—”

Ben raised a hand to stop her, only to realize that her neck was tilted so far forward there is no chance she would have been able to notice anything but the Turkish carpet at her feet.

“It’s alright.” His voice stilled her babbling, but her head remained turned down. “There is no need for such apologies. I am not disturbed.” He noticed then that she was standing in front of a painting, and it sparked his curiosity. He remembered her now, as the maid that seemed a bit odd compared to the rest. When he had glanced at her earlier, she had flushed quite scarlet—for reasons he did not know.

The girl nodded to the floor. “I did not intend to appear so curious. I only meant to keep myself away from the festivities after being dismissed for the evening.”

Ben nodded in understanding. “I usually find myself doing the same.”

That made her glance up at him, but then her eyes flicked away like the sight of him burned her. “But not tonight.”

He took a step towards her. “No, not tonight.” A small smile curled on his lip as he thought of what the rest of the night promised. “For once, I have a rather exciting reason to attend tonight.”

She was quiet as he approached. He almost thought her to appear disturbed somehow. He found himself wondering if it was because of him.

Her gaze was turned towards the wall, back to the painting she was obviously admiring. “Do you like art?” He found himself asking. His eyes turned to the composition before them. “You have an interest in Greek Mythology?” He was mildly impressed that the young handmaiden would have such an education, however, given that she was a maiden of Bazines’, maybe it was not such an anomaly. “Your Lady’s interests might have influenced your curiosity, then?”

For whatever reason, his last suggestion made the young woman scoff. It was followed with, “it would seem so.” She then appeared to remember herself as she added hastily, “My Lady has been in enthusiastic spirits since your correspondence began. She—enjoyed sharing some of her excitement with us as she wrote to you.”

This young maid was quite peculiar, indeed.

He gazed back at the painting. “I think my betrothed would be interested to see this one. The Judgement of Paris. Those are the three goddesses, Athena, Hera, and Aphrodite. He was chosen by Zeus to decide which of the three goddesses was the most beautiful.”

“He chooses the woman who will give him what he wants most in the world…” she replied wistfully. “A true symbol of selfishness and desire—so my Lady has told me.” 

It reminded Ben of something. “I—ah—wanted to extend an apology to you and the other ladies.”

His words made her visibly freeze, and she turned to him quickly. “My Lord, that is not necessary—”

“Your Mistress reprimanded me quite crossly, as one could in a letter, of my rude display at Christmas. I hope you can find it in you to forgive my past misdeeds.” He thought, fondly, of the biting tone his fiancée could instill with just her words.

“My Lord, you mustn’t apologize. I am certain when my Lady wrote that letter she was in a rather different frame of mind. We are all very well, no harm done.” She appeared frazzled before him. He wondered what it was about him that made this girl so skittish.

Ben nodded his head. “That is very well.”

The young maid bowed her head once more. “I will give you some privacy, my Lord.” She turned to make her leave.

“Actually,” Ben called to her, stopping her in her tracks. “Maybe you could help me with something, if you wouldn’t mind.”

She turned slowly to him. “What sort of help do you require?” He wasn’t sure why, but she appeared apprehensive.

“Nothing too terrifying, I assure you. I’d hoped to present Miss Netal with a gift tonight. I was on my way to the library. You seem to know a great deal about your Mistresses’ interests. Perhaps you could help me choose a novel she would admire.”

The girl’s cheeks turned pink, and Ben found himself perplexed by her reactions.

“Unless you are not comfortable doing so…”

“No—that—it’s alright. I can help you.” Her hands were twisted in front of her stomach as she nodded dutifully.

“You have my gratitude,” he replied, relieved as he motioned down the hall.

They walked in silence until Ben stopped at two oak doors. He noticed her reach to open it for him, but some part of him—uncaring of status or propriety—reached forward to open the door for _her_ before she could.

She gaped at the gesture for a moment before curtseying swiftly and hurrying through the door. Her frenzy seemed instantly mollified when she stopped and took in the room.

Ben found it filled him with great pride to watch another experience the library at Alderaan for the first time. Her reaction only solidified his excitement to show it to Miss Netal.

“Do you find it suitable?” He couldn’t help but ask, a smile curling at the edge of his mouth.

Rey’s eyes were wide as she turned about the room. “Far exceeding, my Lord.” Her voice was distant, distracted.

“Over here are more titles of the gothic horror genre. Your Mistress is very fond of those.” He heard her footsteps follow him as he moved towards the suggested shelf. The late afternoon sun streamed through the glass panes, emitting the room in a golden glow.

She seemed in awe as the gold foil on the spines shimmered under the sun. “You keep your novels in excellent condition,” she commented absently, her finger reached out to trace a spine in wonder.

“All first editions, as well,” Ben intoned proudly.

“You must be glad to know the books you leant will be returned to their rightful home soon.”

Ben shrugged. “I’d be perfectly happy if they never returned, as long as they were in such capable, admiring hands. But I suppose, they will return here soon enough.” He felt the excitement bubble inside his chest at the thought.

“What sort of novel were you thinking to give my Mistress?” Her question interrupted the onslaught of fantasies desperate to occupy his thoughts.

He imagined Bazine smiling with delight and possibly a glint of mischief as he presented her with a new adventurous tale. Surely, something horrific, yet epic—and maybe full of monsters. “Something that would excite her. It may involve some semblance of blood and gore, or maybe darkness of a more psychological nature.”

“Do you think my Mistress to be so maniacal?” There was a teasing in her tone that was far in comparison to her original timidness. It made him look at her, and he noticed she was smiling. However, it was short-lived once she felt his gaze on her. The fiery expression turned restrained as she averted her eyes from his. She appeared to remember herself.

His visage surely held nothing but lightheartedness as he replied, “Maniacal? Perhaps, but it is the way I know her curious mind would take apart the subtext, or contemplate the literary connotations of a character’s hubris—we have a connection, a dyad of words if you will.”

“A dyad?”

He pursed his lips. “I command you not mock me at this confession, but I have this deliriously striking thought that your mistress and I might be fated—perhaps like soulmates if I were to be even more forthright.”

When he looked at her, he noticed she had grown incredibly pale.

“Are you quite well, miss…?”

Her eyes blinked at him. “R-Rey. I’m Rey.” He watched her visibly swallow around the single syllable of her name.

He did not know why, but something about being here with her did not feel so improper. This maid was rather pleasant, compared to the giggling whispers he remembers from his last encounter with them. But he also did not remember Rey.

He watched as she inhaled sharply before bowing her head. “I think just a bit of dust…” She coughed, and Ben considered having Threepio dust every shelf in the room before he brought his betrothed here. 

“I have thought of a few titles. I shall share them—” He paused when he noticed her staring off towards a row of books. “Ah the tragedies, don't you think them a bit too somber as an engagement present?”

“My mistress has read the Iliad…she loved it.” Her voice drifted off as she walked towards the shelf to get a closer look.

That bit of information made Ben perk up. “How could I forget? Then I might have the perfect thing for her.” He reached over her shoulder for a book on the shelf above her head.

He caught a whiff of what smelled like Lily of the Valley when he realized he might be a bit too close for what might be comfortable for the girl. He was about to apologize when she turned around sharply and took a few steps away from him.

She really was an odd duck.

“What do you propose then?” She asked hastily as she motioned to the novel in his hand. Her eyes remained downcast.

Ben looked down at the hardcover, twisting the spine as he viewed the title. “If your mistress was a fan of The Iliad, then I suppose it’s sequel would be a fine choice.”

“There is a second epic?” She sounded in awe. Her question surprised him.

He looked over to see her staring inquisitively at the floor. He was impressed that she seemed to have such an interest. The same feeling kept running through him as he observed her. He could not place the familiarity.

Ben nodded, “yes, it is also quite famous. It’s about the voyage of a lifetime.”

“And what does that entail?” She asked curiously.

“Well, there’s action and adventure. It’s a tale of intelligence and perseverance…and there are quite a few scenes of gore your Mistress might find entertaining.” There was a teasing lilt to his voice.

“I think that would be a good match then, my Lord.” Her voice was very quiet. “My Lady will be pleased to discover how familiar you are with her preferences.”

“Well, I certainly could not have done it without your suggestions. So, please accept my thanks, Rey.” Her name settled on his tongue as he addressed her. He thought it suited her very well.

She was blushing as she curtsied. “I’m pleased to have been of help, my Lord.” That timidness was back, and he found that it irked him.

“You need not be afraid of me,” he said with the hope that she would no longer appear so unsettled. “You and the other maids are more than welcome here. I do not want you to feel any distress.”

“That is comforting to hear, my Lord. I promise you should not worry about such things as my melancholy,” she replied hastily. “I will not keep you any longer, and I should see to it that my Mistress has all she needs.” She bowed her head once more before she rushed to the door.

He watched as the door slowly closed shut behind her, an odd wave of familiarity once again bombarded his senses.

Ben could not understand why he felt like he’d met that maid before. It was a sentiment he found hard to brush away.

With a shake of his head, he tucked the book under his arm, before he made his way to the parlor.

He was flooded with excitement at the thought of Miss Bazine’s reaction when he presented her with his gift.

She would surely love it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am on [twitter](https://twitter.com/anopendoor3) 😬


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